


come on, get higher, loosen my lips

by achillese



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Blow Jobs, Classroom Sex, Humor, M/M, Mild Language, Nude Modeling, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 08:11:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achillese/pseuds/achillese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael's college art class is starting the nude model portion of their lesson plan today. Normally Michael wouldn't mind - after all, he's mature enough to be able to handle staring at a naked person for a full class period in the name of fine art - except he wasn't counting on his friend's younger brother as the nude model. Awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	come on, get higher, loosen my lips

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I take DayQuil and Advil at the same time, apparently. I'm all about Michael worshipping/being in awe of Adam's body, so this seemed like a 'logical' way to have him do just that, albeit in an awkwardly public way. 
> 
> If you want you can find me on [Tumblr](http://wintrsoldier.tumblr.com/).

Michael was the first one to arrive at art class on Tuesday, hefting his messenger bag over one shoulder as he brushed past a group of sophomores just standing around in the hallway and ducked into the room. He was usually one of the last people to arrive, but he’d soon discovered that one of the perks of being first was getting to choose where to sit, as there were no assigned seats in Mrs. Harvelle’s art class. 

Usually Michael sat along the wall opposite the windows, which sucked because oftentimes the late afternoon light would be shining right in his face and blind him every time he tried to look up at whatever object they were supposed to be sketching. Today, though, Michael sat with his back to the windows as he picked arguably the best seat in the room and pulled his sketchbook out of his bag to set it on the easel. 

They were supposed to be starting a new area of study today, that being sketching a model. A nude model. A nude model, who would be sitting in the middle of the circular classroom posing for the students. Truth be told, the only reason Michael had arrived so early was because the very thought of walking in late to _this_ class and potentially embarrassing himself in front of his peers _and_ the model gave him so much anxiety that he figured, fuck it, might as well be obscenely early. 

Michael spent the next fifteen minutes playing Hooked On Words on his phone while the rest of the class slowly filed in, most of them with coffee cups in hand. A few of them stopped to ogle at the stool sitting in the middle of the room as though they’d forgotten what the new lesson plan was, and their eyes quickly scanned the room as though expecting the model to already be sitting amongst them. 

Michael’s friend and roommate Castiel walked in with two minutes to spare. Michael had put his bag down on the seat next to him and he now moved it so Cas, face pink with adrenaline (he’d probably run all the way here) could sit.

“Class let out late,” Cas explained breathlessly as he shrugged off his backpack. “Is Mrs. Harvelle here yet?”

As if on cue, their art teacher emerged from her office, connected to the classroom via an unremarkable wooden door. Her hair was piled high in a bun and the heels of her boots clicked on the floor as she stood near the center of the room and smiled at everyone. Michael listened as she explained the rules of the session, even though she’d gone over them the week before as preparation. It was common sense, common courtesy stuff: don’t bother the model, don’t comment on anything that might make them uncomfortable, don’t be immature, blah blah blah. 

The students would be sketching two different poses today, one with the model on the stool and one on a backless couch, which Michael hadn’t noticed was shoved into a corner of the classroom to be dragged out later. 

It was then that the model emerged from Mrs. Harvelle’s office in a white bathrobe and slippers, and Michael nearly snapped his pencil in his grip. 

“Isn’t that Dean’s brother?” Castiel hissed under his breath, too low for Mrs. Harvelle to hear. “The youngest one?”

Dean was, like Castiel, Michael’s friend and yes, that was definitely his half-brother Adam toeing off his slippers and sliding the robe off his shoulders and Jesus fucking Christ, Michael should just _leave_ right the fuck now. Michael knew from past experience that there was a Dean-imposed boundary when it came to his siblings, and sketching Dean’s youngest brother bare-ass naked was crossing that boundary, big time. 

Too late to bail though, even if he wanted to. Adam had rotated his neck a little to stretch himself out before getting up on the stool and he’d caught Michael’s eye. Adam’s own blue eyes widened for a split second before he smirked and slowly pushed himself up on the stool, his back thankfully facing Michael as he leaned forward into a pose. 

Michael swallowed twice before readjusting his grip on his pencil and holding the point up to his sketchbook, staring at Adam’s back so he could start drawing. Adam had wide shoulders, which Michael knew from the many times the Miltons and the Winchesters had joint pool parties in the summer when they were all in high school together, but he’d never been forced to stare at them for so long. He could see Adam’s shoulder blades protruding slightly, along with the notches of his spinal column. Adam’s head was bent forward slightly but Michael could still see a tuft of straw-colored hair, uncut for what looked like months, and the curve of his neck was one graceful line. 

It occurred to Michael that he’d been staring and hadn’t actually drawn a damn thing. Everyone else was intently and studiously looking from their sketches up to Adam and then back down, trying to capture as much of him as they could before he swapped poses. 

Michael started from the middle of his body, carefully sketching the curve of his back and his hips, stopping just before Michael was forced to look at his ass. He filled in everything above that point, taking care to catch the way the shadows made his body more defined, the way everything about him became angular and sharp. There was a mole or two on Adam’s back that Michael added to his sketch – again, something he’d probably noticed at a number of pool parties but had never actively thought about or stared at. 

Mrs. Harvelle was slowly circling the room, looking over her students’ shoulders at their drawings. Usually she passed by without commentary, but sometimes she’d make a small noise of approval or nod a little if she liked something. 

Standing behind Michael, Mrs. Harvelle stared for a moment or two before making that approving noise and moving on. 

Before he knew it, half the class time was over and Michael had a near-full sketch of Adam’s back sans anything below the waist. 

Usually the students got a fifteen-minute break to go to the bathroom or grab a snack or a drink from the coffee shop downstairs in the building. Michael assumed that by the time they got back Adam would be in his next position on the couch, and fuck him if that didn’t give Michael any inappropriate ideas. He had half a mind to throw the bathrobe at Adam and tell him to cover up but instead just bolted from his seat, not even caring how it looked or that Adam was staring at him, amused, as he left.

\---

Michael returned just before the fifteen minute break was up, having gone to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face and try not to knock himself unconscious against the sink. He had half a mind to turn on his heel and walk back out when he saw that Mrs. Harvelle had already set up Adam’s next position and the boy in question was already getting himself adjusted on the backless couch. Adam was lying down on his back, stretched out like a...well, like a piece of erotic art, ironically enough. His back was arched as he stretched out for a second before he relaxed against the pillow under his head. One arm was tucked under his head as well while the other rested low on his stomach.

And, of course, he was still naked. 

Michael walked back to his seat like a man condemned to death. Castiel was still there, very pointedly _not_ looking at Adam and instead finding a very interesting speck on his sketchbook that he kept brushing at with his thumb. The room was quiet; students just walking back in saw the setup and immediately made beelines back to their easels. Michael had to give his classmates a lot of credit: everyone was being shockingly mature. 

The next half of the class started and Michael had no fucking clue what to do or where to begin. Adam’s face was turned towards him ( _goddamnit_ ) but he was staring at a blank spot in the wall several feet away from where Michael was sitting. 

Michael started with Adam’s face, making a point to look at the body part furthest from his dick (which was _right there_ ). He paid careful attention to the slope of the boy’s nose, his thin but pink lips, his cheekbones and the sharp angles of his jaw. The sunlight through the window was making all the shadows of his body more dramatic and Michael wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or frustrated. Probably a little of both. 

Castiel seemed to pick up on what Michael was trying to avoid because he glanced over at Michael’s sketch and rolled his eyes. Michael in turn looked at Castiel’s work and noted with surprise that his friend was diving right into the awkward bit and sketching Adam’s lower half. It took all of Michael’s self control not to look over at the couch and compare with the real thing for accuracy. Instead, he went back to focusing on his own sketch.

Time passed so quickly that Michael had only just begun shading in Adam’s nipples (was it just him or was Michael’s mouth actually _salivating_ , good fucking lord) when Mrs. Harvelle called time and told the class that Adam would be back for another three class sessions before they moved on to another model. Michael closed up his sketchbook and inwardly cursed his luck that he’d have to sit through three more classes staring at a naked Adam.

Speaking of, Adam was sitting up on the couch with the bathrobe around his shoulders, loosely tied around the waist to keep him decent while he tried to make eye contact with Michael. The older boy nodded politely and smiled before he caught Mrs. Harvelle looking at him and shaking her head no. Adam saw the exchange and quickly reassured her, “Oh, it’s okay. He’s a friend.”

As if to prove his point, Adam stood up and walked over to Michael, sans slippers, one hand on his robe to keep it shut while he moved. Michael felt his cheeks turn pink as he quickly tried to shove his sketchbook into his backpack, fingers fumbling nervously. 

“Dude, calm down. Where’s the fire?” Adam asked, sitting in the same seat where Castiel had been earlier. 

Michael tried not to look at how the robe opened up at Adam’s thighs. “I don’t wanna get you in trouble for talking to me,” he lied, looking pointedly over at Mrs. Harvelle, but she seemed to have taken Adam’s words to heart as she was already back in her office, albeit the door was wide open and Michael could see her shuffling papers at her desk. 

Adam shrugged one shoulder and crossed his arms over his chest. “You won’t. I’m friends with her daughter, so she’s super chill about me being here and all.”

“Why _are_ you here?” Michael asked. “I can’t imagine nude modeling for college students pays all that much.”

Adam snorted. “You’d be surprised. Fourteen bucks an hour. Your class might only be an hour and a half long, but for a three-hour lecture, that’s forty-two dollars of me just sitting on my ass looking pretty.”

Michael tried to chase all the mental visuals of Adam’s ‘ass’ from his mind. 

“Speaking of,” Adam said with a twinkle in his eye, “ _you_ looked highly uncomfortable this whole time.”

Michael zipped his backpack shut. “I didn’t exactly come in here thinking I’d be spending my class time staring at my friend’s younger brother naked.”

“Drawing,” Adam corrected. When Michael just blinked at him, Adam explained: “You mean _drawing_ your friend’s younger brother naked. You weren’t just _staring_. Or at least, you weren’t supposed to be,” he added with an eyebrow raise.

Michael forgot until now how absolutely fucking annoying Adam Milligan was. “You know what I meant.”

“Right, yeah.” Adam ran his hand through his hair and mussed it up a bit before his tone grew serious. “Listen, can you do me a favor and...not tell Dean about this?”

“He doesn’t know?” When Adam shook his head, Michael asked, “What about Sam?”

“Sam knows. Wasn’t too happy about it, but there’s not much he can do about it. Dean would put up a bigger fight. Tell Cas to do the same, I missed him on his way out.”

“I will,” Michael promised. He might have been Dean’s friend first, but getting Adam into trouble with his brother was definitely not on his to-do list anytime soon. 

The sound of Mrs. Harvelle’s boots clicking across the floor snapped Michael out of his daze. “Adam, I have to go to a faculty meeting soon. Your clothes are still in my office if you could change now so I can leave.”

“No problem Mrs. H,” Adam said, getting up from the stool and whirling his way past her and into her office where he shut the door behind him.

Michael wasn’t sure if he should wait for Adam to change or just leave, but Adam’s muffled, “Don’t go yet, Mike!” from Mrs. Harvelle’s office made him stay. 

Mrs. Harvelle checked her watch before Michael offered, “I can lock up after he leaves, if you’re already running late.”

She regarded Michael with hawk-like eyes, as though sizing him up if he could be trusted with her keys, before she took them out of her pocket and tossed them over to him. Michael was pretty well known amongst the faculty for being every teacher’s wet dream in terms of studiousness, manners, and responsibility; he damn well knew he could pretty much get whatever he wanted if he just asked nicely. Not that he _wanted_ anything from Mrs. Harvelle, but he did want to talk more with Adam before they parted ways and he didn’t want to make his teacher late for her meeting. 

“Lock the office _and_ the classroom,” she instructed him. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

She’d barely closed the classroom door behind her when Michael heard the office door open behind him and Adam was there, still in the stupid bathrobe.

“You’re supposed to be changing,” Michael reminded him, making a point _not_ to stare at the way the robe opened and exposed Adam’s chest. 

Adam said nothing but merely left the door open before backing up and hopping onto Mrs. Harvelle’s desk, toying with the string that kept the robe shut. Michael’s mouth immediately dried up.

“Dean didn’t like the idea of us together in high school; I doubt he’d change his mind now,” Michael reminded Adam without stepping closer. 

“Dean’s not here,” Adam replied simply as he untied the string around his waist, and that was all the motivation Michael needed to slip into the office, slam, and lock the door behind him before grabbing Adam by the hips and hauling him close. 

The kiss was hard and desperate, with absolutely no finesse or tenderness, but it was what Michael needed after an hour and a half of staring at Adam’s naked body that he wasn’t allowed to touch. Adam groaned into his mouth, legs spreading so Michael could stand between them, hips canting up into Michael’s touch as Adam’s fingers spread through his hair. Michael licked across Adam’s lips before taking his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling gently, making Adam breathe a happy half-moan, half-sigh before leaning in for another kiss. 

Michael’s hands wandered up Adam’s stomach underneath the robe, feeling the hard planes of his stomach before pushing the fabric aside and exposing Adam again. Michael had to hand it to him, Adam had been completely professional throughout the whole class period, but now he was rock hard, cock red and curving upward towards his stomach. 

Adam whined from the back of his throat as Michael gently traced the length of it with the tip of his index finger, barely touching him, just enough to tease. He swiped his thumb over Adam’s slit and collected some of the precome that had gathered there before tasting it, licking his thumb clean with his eyes locked on Adam’s.

“I forgot how fucking frustrating you are,” Adam managed to say before breaking off into a gasp as Michael dipped his hand down to cup his balls. 

Michael huffed under his breath. “I just spent almost two hours staring and not being allowed to touch the merchandise.”

“Well by all means, fucking _touch me, then_.”

Michael kissed him to shut him up. He could feel Adam moving beneath him as the younger boy reached out to fumble with Michael’s jeans button, but he abruptly pulled Adam’s hands away. The blond whined as Michael broke the kiss.

“No time for that,” Michael hissed. “And besides, I’m not going that far with you in my teacher’s goddamn office.”

“So what then? Gonna leave me like this?” Adam asked, with his swollen wet lips and open robe and hard cock, his arms braced on the desk behind him and his legs spread invitingly for Michael. 

And, well, how was Michael supposed to say no to that, even if they _were_ in Mrs. Harvelle’s office? 

That was how Michael ended up on his knees in front of Adam, mouth wrapped around his cock and hands splayed on the younger boy’s inner thighs to keep his legs apart. Adam had one hand threading through Michael’s hair and the other on the desk behind him, bracing himself so he didn’t fall down and land on the pile of papers there. His robe was still hanging off one of his slender shoulders and his heels were braced against the desk drawers, bottom lip between his teeth as he tried to keep his noises down, but it was nearly impossible with the way Michael used his tongue against his cock, so familiar from when they would hook up in high school that if Adam weren’t so close to ecstasy it would almost make him sad that they’d been missing out on this for four years. 

Michael’s tongue dipped into Adam’s slit quickly and Adam’s grip on his hair tightened, signaling that he was close. Michael didn’t let up the way his tongue swirled up and around Adam’s length, drawing patterns into his skin, and that was how Adam came hard with a strangled cry, shallowly fucking into Michael’s mouth as the older boy milked every drop from him. When he was sure Adam’s orgasm was finished, Michael slipped his cock from his mouth with a lewd pop and licked his lips before diving back to lick up a stray drop of two that was still dripping from Adam’s slit. Adam made a small keening noise as Michael’s tongue teased his sensitive skin before the older boy kissed the inside of his thigh and stood up between his legs. 

If ever there were a time where Michael really wanted to sketch Adam, it would be now, looking totally debauched and wrecked with his flushed and sweaty skin, hair clinging to his forehead and robe now totally off his body. Michael grabbed him gently by the back of the neck and drew him in for another kiss, a slower one this time, albeit much deeper. Adam tried weakly to return the kiss with the same amount of energy but he was so drunk on his own orgasm that all he could really do was nip down on Michael’s bottom lip every once in awhile and moan. 

When they broke the kiss, Michael was the first to speak: “So, I’m pretty sure we just broke like fifty school rules. Maybe a state one or two.”

Adam huffed a small, breathless laugh and leaned forward, resting his forehead against Michael’s collarbone, fingers curling into the cotton material of Michael’s shirt. Michael got the feeling that they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon so he gently rubbed circles into Adam’s back, resting his chin on top of the blond boy’s head. 

It was another few minutes of silence, of them remaining in that position, before Adam moved his head away. “We should get going.” No reason offered, just that they should leave.

Michael nodded and wordlessly Adam hopped off the desk and slipped his clothes on, jeans and a black Henley and sneakers. He didn’t have a bag with him so Michael unlocked the office door and together they walked across the classroom to the exit, the silence settling around them like a heavy blanket. 

“So,” Adam finally said, “does this mean...” 

He trailed off, unsure of what to say next, so Michael stepped in to help: “It means that we should get dinner together this Friday. Maybe a movie too.”

Adam snorted as he held the classroom door open for Michael. “Kind of doing this whole dating thing backwards, aren’t we? Most people usually go out first _before_ receiving blowjobs in the teacher’s office.”

Michael smirked as his hand bumped against Adam’s where they walked side by side down the hallway. “Yeah, well, we’ve never really been ‘most people’, have we?”

Adam smiled back. “No we haven’t.”


End file.
